Chapter 8 - Riggs

CHAPTER 8 - RIGGS

I will not feel guilty about this. I refuse. It's not my fault that she showed up and saw my face. It's not my fault that I had to lock her up. And I'm not saying it's her fault either. It's just… bad luck. That's it. I was here, I thought I was safe because the house pretty much looks abandoned. Clearly, if I had known she was in the process of getting fired and kicked out of her cottage, I would've left and never come back.

But that's not how it played out. It happened the way it happened. A classic case of wrong time, wrong place.

So I do not feel guilty when I walk out of the room and get back to work.

I leave the house, go to the control room I've set up in a nearby underground access tunnel, and spent the next four hours finishing what I started.

When I'm done it's very dark.

I go back to the house, make one last cursory check that I'm not leaving anything behind, wipe down all possible surfaces that might have my prints on them, and I'm just about to pull the back door closed behind me… when I stop.

"Fuck." I mutter this under my breath as I look at my feet. She hasn't eaten anything more than one bite of an MRE in nearly three days.

The least I can do is see if she wants food.

She's probably gonna say no, and whatever. That's fine. But I will have gone above and beyond anything she actually deserves and I can leave here with a completely clear conscience.

A long sigh escapes. I just really want to get home and get my life back on track.

But I go back in, and open the trapdoor, and peer down.

She's turned the lights off, so I can't see her. But I don't care about that either.

"Have you come to gloat? What could you possibly want now?" Her voice is raspy and low. Which isn't my fault, either. I left her two cases of water.

"I'm about to leave, Clover. Do you want some food?"

She lets out a long breath and I'm fully expecting her to start a fight and tell me to go fuck myself. But to my surprise she says, "Yes, please."

"Yes?"

She scoffs. "You were hoping for a no, I take it?"

"I'm not going to argue with you. I'll be back." Then I close the door, lock it back up, and leave.

I used her car to go into Fayetteville to buy the lock, so I guess it's fine to use it one more time. I unhitched the trailer the last time I took it, so it's not even that hard to pull it out onto the highway and head south.

There is a diner in Revenant, and I look at it as I pass, but I don't stop there. I'm sure they are used to all kinds of tourists and strangers coming in to eat, but I'm not taking any chances that someone might remember me.

My entire future hinges on getting this job done right.

So I drive to Fayetteville, order two burger meals, and drive back to the house. The food is cold by the time I bring it inside and put it on the table, but whatever. I'm sure she won't care.

Then I go back to the trapdoor, unlock it, open it up, and peer back down. "Come up. You can eat up here."

It's still dark down there and none of the light from up here is penetrating that darkness, so I don't see her until she's right underneath me, looking up. "You're gonna let me out?"

"To eat, Clover."

I know she wants to argue here. I can feel her anger.

But I also know she's hungry.

She will die of thirst before she dies of hunger, but starvation is a very unpleasant thing. I've known hunger pangs. I missed a lot of meals while I was drilling tunnels in the dark.

She holds her tongue and climbs up the stairs.

I wave her forward in front of me, expecting her to make some stupid break for it. But she doesn't. She goes to the kitchen, assuming that's where the food is, I guess, and takes a seat at the shitty dinette table.

I sit in the chair to her right.

She doesn't even look at me. Her eyes are on the bags of takeout food.

"Go ahead, eat as much as you want."

Clover opens the first bag, takes out all the contents, and greedily peels back the wrapper on the burger, shoving it into her mouth. She holds it with two hands as she chews, head bowed and eyes cast down.

Times ticks off—whole minutes of it—but she never raises her head up. Just keeps taking bites and slowly chewing her food as she looks down at the table.

I let out a long breath, stretching my feet out. "It's not my fault, you know."

Clover's eyes flit up and meet mine. They're an intense shade of blue. Not bright and disarming, like some blue eyes can be, but more like the color of a dark summer sky. "Excuse me?"

"This whole thing here. It's not my fault."

Her eyebrows go up and then she scoffs. "Are you implying that it's my fault? Because… well, let's review the facts here, shall we? I came home. That's what I did. That's all I did. I came home. And you were here. Uninvited and unwelcome. So if it's not my fault and it's not your fault, then who should get the blame when I die a slow, painful death in my own fucking basement?" She stares at me for a moment, daring me to say she's wrong.

But she's not wrong and after a few seconds, she reverts back to chewing and staring down at the table.

"It's just…" I don't know what to say.

"Save it. I don't care. And I don't want to listen as you make up excuses."

"I just…"

She looks up again. "I get it. You feel terrible. But unless you're gonna do something about this sudden flash of guilt, shut up, OK? I'm not interested."

Again, we stare at each other. And then, again, she looks back down and takes her final bite of burger.

"There might be a way," I say.

"A way to what?"

"To not leave you here."

She looks up. Then narrows her eyes. " How? "

"I could… take you with me."

Her head tips back as the guffaw comes out. Then she shakes her head and directs her gaze to me. "I'm not going anywhere with you. How is that even a solution? What a stupid choice. I can stay here and die or I can become your prisoner?"

"Ya know, you're kinda stuck up. Not to mention ungrateful."

"What?" She scoffs.

"I'm offering to save your life, Clover. At great risk to myself."

"By making me your pet, or something? No, thank you." She starts eating her fries, staring off in the distance this time.

"It wouldn't be forever. I'd set you free."

"It wouldn't be forever ?" Another scoff. "That doesn't sound promising."

"I'm not a killer."

"I think you are."

"For fuck's sake, Clover! Why are you arguing with me? Just say yes! Yes, you'll happily come with me and endure whatever slight discomfort there is in order to save yourself. It's a simple fucking ‘yes!' That's it! That's all you have to say. Just yes ."

There is nothing but silence after this little outburst of mine. So I just keep going. "If I thought you were coming home, I would not have been here. It's not my fault, Clover. I'm just… I cannot fuck this job up. I can't."

Her expression softens slightly. "Because of the darkness?"

It takes me a moment to decide to answer her. But there's no point in denying it. I slipped up. Somewhere along the way, I said too much. She's smart and picked up on it. It's a weakness and she knows this. The longer I insist there's nothing there to find, the harder she will look and the more power over me she'll have.

The only way to neutralize this is to spill the secret.

"I don't know how much you know about what's under the ground, but that's where I come from."

Her face crinkles up in such confusion, I actually smile. "Under the ground?" She looks at the floor, then back at me. "I don't understand."

"You don't know about the tunnels?"

"What tunnels?"

"I'll take that as a no. I'm surprised, though. I figured Collin Creed told everyone in Disciple. That's what he said he did, anyway. Guess he's a liar."

"I don't live here anymore. I haven't been home in a long time. The reno, as you can see"—she pans a hand to the wreck of what used to be a kitchen—"is at a standstill. This house is going to bankrupt me. There's no reason to come home when home is gone. Well, except for my bedroom."

Without realizing it, I smile, remembering her bedroom.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I say.

"You went up there, didn't you? Did you sleep in my bed last night?"

"If you were me, would you have slept in it?"

"You did. You slept in my childhood bed while I was locked in my own basement. Which, by the way, was sort of a playhouse when I was a kid. I loved that cabin. And now I will never think of it the same way again. You've ruined a major part of my childhood by keeping me prisoner down there."

"I only kept you prisoner because you tried to escape."

"Oh, no. You will not turn this around on me, you psychopath. I only tried to escape because you were holding me prisoner!"

I narrow my eyes at her. "You walked in on me. I had no choice."

"I walked in on you ? No." She shakes her head. "That's not how it happened. I wasn't in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was in the right place." She points her finger at me. " You were the one in the wrong place. You ."

"Do you wanna come with me or do you want to die in the basement?"

"Obviously, I don't want to die."

"So you want to come with me."

"I'm not saying that. I would rather you just… let me go."

"So you can go tell Collin."

"What is it with you and Collin Creed? I don't understand. Are you two enemies or something?"

"Never mind Collin. I'm trying to keep you alive. That's the part you should be concentrating on right now, OK? Just that. And I feel I've had this discussion with you a million times and it's only been a couple of days. Why are you so fucking difficult? Why can't you help me help you?"

I'm getting angry and she suddenly realizes this, so she doesn't reply. But I can see the hatred in her eyes for me. I can see her loathing.

But there's something else in there, too.

It's… injustice. Her arguing and pushback isn't something she's doing on purpose. She feels wronged. I am actually at fault. And it's pissing her off so much that I refuse to take responsibility for this situation, she cannot stop the attitude.

It's not fair. And Clover Bradley is, apparently, a woman who believes in fairness.

I let out a long breath, pulling my anger back. "I'm sorry, OK? Is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry. It's all my fault. Now. I'm going to ask one more time, and only one more time. Do you want to stay here and die?"

She shrugs up one shoulder and crosses her arms. "Yes. I want to stay here and die."

"Come on . You do not."

"I do. I want to make you responsible for my death. I want the memory of this to eat you alive. I want you to regret not letting me go. And then, when you die, I want you to go to hell for it."

I laugh. "Oh, I get it. You're one of those ‘last word' kinda girls? The kind who can't stand to lose an argument so you say and do things only out of spite."

"First of all"—she holds up a finger—"I'm a ray of fucking sunshine, OK? I'm not one of ‘those girls.' I can't even remember the last time I had an argument, let alone the last time I plotted to win one. I'm a pleaser. I work in customer service. I plan events at a big hotel?—"

"Correction. You did plan events at a big hotel. You don't anymore."

"My point is"—these words come out through clenched teeth—"I live to make people happy. My joy comes from their joy."

"Well, that's fucking sad."

"There's nothing sad about that."

"So what are your dreams?"

"Like I'd tell you."

"You don't have any, do you? You go through life living off a contact high."

"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. But even if that were true, at least I'm not a psychopathic killer who will leave young women to slowly starve to death in a basement."

"I just invited you to come with me, so from this point on, Clover, what happens to you is your choice."

"It doesn't feel like a choice. That's the part you're missing. It feels like a requirement." Her eyes lock with mine, unblinking. "It feels like a trap."

I let out a long exhale, bow my head, and rub my fingertips into my temple. "I didn't plan to kidnap you. I'm not trapping you." I look back up at her. "I'm trying to save your life. I'm sorry my plan is not to your satisfaction, but it's the best I can do." My chair scrapes along the floor as I get up, then I point in the direction of the basement. "Let's go. Your choice awaits."

She leans back in her chair, arms still crossed, unafraid to meet my gaze. "I'm not going back into the basement."

"No? Well, you just spent the last five minutes insisting that you were."

"Tell me about the darkness then."

"What?"

"You didn't say either way. Earlier, when I asked about it? Tell me about the darkness and I'll go with you."

I laugh out loud. "I don't care if you come. I don't need to tell you anything."

"You do care. Otherwise you wouldn't be making this offer."

"If you know I care, then why are you being so difficult? Just agree and we can go to bed, and tomorrow morning we'll leave."

"Because I want something from you to even out this power struggle we're in."

I scoff. "There's no struggle here. I'm the one with the power."

"Exactly. And as long as it's so uneven, I don't feel safe. So I can't go." I'm just about to explode when her face changes. Her eyes go soft and her lips pout. "I want to go. I want to go with you. I don't want to die. I just need…"

"An excuse?"

She presses her lips together and nods. "Yes."

"So you can live with yourself later?"

"Yes. So tell me about the darkness and then we'll be even and I will save you from yourself."

I laugh. It comes out loud. But she's absolutely fucking serious. Her eyes are even a little glassy, like she's on the verge of tears. "You want to talk yourself into the idea that I'm vulnerable, is that it, Clover?"

She shrugs up that one shoulder again. "Maybe it's stupid, but it evens it out."

I sit back down, kick my legs out, and fold my arms across my chest. "Fine. I was sent on a mission when I was twenty-two and I fucked it all up. When I got back, they punished me."

Her eyes squint up in confusion. "What did you do?"

"It's not important. What's important was the darkness, remember?"

"OK. Fine." She rolls her hand in a ‘keep going' motion.

"My punishment was to work in the tunnels." Immediately, her mouth opens to ask questions. But I put up a hand to be silent. "If you come with me, you'll see. But that's the important part, remember."

"All right. You were sent to work in some kind of tunnel. How is that punishment?"

"It was dark." My mood sours and my words come out bitter. "And it wasn't a small darkness, either. It was six years. And ya know, we're born underground, and we live our whole lives underground, and obviously, our sun is artificial, so how can the darkness be punishment? That kind of darkness—the kind that doesn't come with an artificial sun and all the perks and amenities that a city affords, it's unbearable. It's torture."

Clover doesn't breathe, or blink, or move through any of that explanation, so when it's over, she exhales. She doesn't avert her eyes. They are staring intently into mine. Like she's picturing everything I just revealed inside her head. She blinks. "And this is your last chance, isn't it?"

I nod. There's no point in hiding that. And if she needs something to humanize me, or whatever, so that she can make the decision to save herself, so be it. "I can't fuck it up. And if I let you go, it will get fucked up. Somehow, some way, it will."

"How long were you up here?"

"Only a year."

"How long ago was that?"

"Six years ago."

"You spent six years in the dark?"

"Yep. Satisfied now?"

She lets out a long sigh. "OK. I guess I am. But we're not leaving tonight?"

"We'll wait until morning. I have to blindfold you so you won't be able to find the tunnel again once you're free and it's better to do that in the daylight."

"OK, but"—she puts up both hands, palms thrusting forward at me—"can I at least sleep in my own bed?"

"No." Then I kinda laugh.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't trust you. I'm going out on a huge limb for you, Clover. You don't even understand how fucked I will be if I get caught. I'm not giving you any more chances."

"But… you could come up there with me." She smiles here and her whole face brightens. "Wouldn't you like to sleep in the bed?"

"Oh, I'm definitely sleeping in that bed again."

"So you did sleep in my bedroom."

"I did."

Her eyebrows knit together in annoyance. "That's not fair. And if you're gonna be up there anyway, then why can't I just come along? It's not like I'm trying to seduce you for an opportunity."

One corner of my mouth lifts up. "Like this morning?"

"Hey, I was desperate. And hungry. It felt like my last chance."

"‘Last man on earth' kind of thing?" I waggle my eyebrows at her.

"Exactly. But that's over now. We've come to an agreement that doesn't involve tricking each other."

"Would it have been a trick?"

"Would what have been a trick?"

"The two of us taking a shower and sleeping in your bed afterward? That was your original plan, right?"

She lets out a breath. "Yep. It would've been nothing but a trick."

"And now we're not tricking each other?"

She's annoyed. "I just said that."

"Fine. If you're so desperate to sleep with me, what do I care." I turn and wave my hand at the hallway that leads to the stairs. "Come on, then. Let's go."